


Goner.

by DatoPotato



Series: Whumptober 2020 [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Batfamily (DCU), Death, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:21:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27055612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DatoPotato/pseuds/DatoPotato
Summary: Damian is lost.Whumptober piece, no. 8, "Where did everybody go?"
Series: Whumptober 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1963546
Comments: 6
Kudos: 13
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Goner.

Damian awakened with a jolt. He took a breath while his eyes adjusted to the sudden darkness. However, there didn’t seem to be any oxygen for him to breathe, nor any light for him to see by. He blinked, trying to clear his vision, but it did nothing. He felt panic rise in his chest, ever so slightly.

 _Hello_? He tried to speak but the words were stolen from his mouth before he could make a sound. He lifted a hesitant hand to his throat and all he felt was cold. He realized then that that was all he could feel throughout his body. Cold. Not freezing, but the kind of cold that seeps deep into your bones, spreads throughout your body, and you can’t escape from, no matter how much you attempt to warm yourself up.

He rubbed his arms with his hands in an effort to get his blood flowing but it was useless. He continued to hug himself if only for the small comfort it gave him. He walked, looking for a wall that he could use to guide himself out of this darkness and the more he walked, the more he felt himself digging deeper into an empty hopelessness that seemed to surround him in the darkness. 

He quickly found that there were no walls, no doors, nothing in the void he was stuck in. The silence was beginning to become suffocating. A pain radiated from behind his eyes and his chest. He rubbed his chest and shut his eyes tight. He sat down on the ground, waiting for someone as the pain subsided. _But who_? 

A flash, a memory. A steaming cup in his hands, a gentle smile and kind eyes, filled with love. _Alfred_ , Damian remembered. He clung to the warmth that spread from the tips of his fingers but it slipped through his fingers like sand. The cold settled back into his bones and Damian curled in on himself. 

He didn’t know how long he lay there for, shivering before his body acclimated. When it finally did, he sat up and looked around. For what, he wasn’t certain. Sure enough, nothing could be seen. The empty feeling in his chest returned. 

Another memory, another smile, this one younger and a mischievous look in his eye. Arms that were warm and give off the feeling of _safe_ , and _home_. _Richard_ , he realized. The warmth began to return, a loud bark startling Damian in the absolute silence, echoing off of nothing. A black dog, tail wagging and tongue hanging out in a sloppy smile. He couldn’t stop his lips from curving upwards, _Titus_. 

Memories started to become clearer, his father, Todd, and even Drake. His _family_. He smiled at the thought of them. Where were they? Where was he? He decided he’d wait for them, for his family. Surely they would come for him. How long had he been here, wherever it was, anyway? As he contemplated the question, another memory, one Damian tried to keep at bay, forced its way through. Damian saw with perfect and awful clarity, the sword that ran him through, impaling him. He felt his breath punched from his lungs as he stared into his own face, only older and twisted. 

With a violent realization, he knew he was dead. 

He wanted to scream and cry, it wasn’t fair. None of this was. He wanted to curse everyone, for his life and for his death. He was forced to live with his mother for ten years, trained to be a fighter, a killer. Then, not even a year into his new life, it was ripped from his grasp and he was thrust into this darkness, this _void_. 

There was so much he still needed to experience, to say. His shoulders shook with his inability to cry, the sharp movements being the only indication of it. If he could, there was so much he’d say. He’d have told his father how much he cared for him and how thankful he was that his father took him away from his old life. He’d thank Richard for being there for him, for guiding him and for being his brother. He’d thank Alfred for being a constant in his life, giving him the much-needed consistency he craved. He’d even thank Todd and Drake for putting up with him and being his brothers too. He’d have spent more time with Titus and Goliath and Batcow and Alfred the cat. 

He’d have hugged everyone a little tighter.

He was sure his heart would be racing if he could feel it, but the cold had infected his entire being, leaving him shuddering constantly. He tried closing his eyes, tried sleeping, but he soon realized that he couldn’t. He felt frustrated with everything. It wasn’t fair. He had tried so hard to be good, to do better, why him? He was trying, he was doing his best, why did he have to die?

Damian lifted his fist above his head and brought it down hard. Nothing. No pain from hitting the floor, absolutely nothing. He wanted to scream so he opened his mouth, knowing nothing would come out, but he tried anyway. His body felt exhausted as he lay on his side, wishing for sleep, for something to take him away. It was so cold and empty and he was so, so alone. No matter how much he walked, he wouldn’t find anyone. Somehow he just knew.

He didn’t know how long he lay there for, but it felt like a long time. Finally, he got up, lifting his body up and walking. He couldn’t see anything so he decided he’d just move forward and maybe he’d find something. His mind was as numb as his body. It felt like weeks he’d been here for. It felt like he was slowly disappearing, fading away. He abandoned the thought, refusing to let himself think about what would happen if he faded, instead, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. 

No matter how much he walked, he was still surrounded by the same deafening darkness. He felt like he was drowning in it as if he couldn’t get a breath in. Of course, he didn’t need to breathe, there was no oxygen anyway. Why would you need oxygen if you’re not even alive? 

Damian never stopped. If he did, he was afraid he’d fade completely, so he continued on. He did his best to ignore the cold, the way it seemed to be getting worse, making it difficult to keep his eyes open, his limbs moving. But he refused to stop. He wasn’t done with his life. He has to get it back. He would. 

Right? 

Even if he kept telling himself that, he had no idea how he was going to get back. How long had it been? How much time had passed? 

He tripped over himself, falling painlessly and soundlessly to the ground. He tried to lift himself back up, but his body was cooperating. Instead, he turned himself over onto his back, staring up at the complete and utter nothingness. The cold crept over him, encasing him. He didn’t feel the fear he thought he would. He had regrets, yes, but this was just… unavoidable. What came next, Damian wasn’t sure. Hopefully, it was better than this. Better than wandering aimlessly in a void and so very alone. He let his eyes close, allowing his body to relax, preparing for the peace he longed for. 

A bright light shone above him. Damian moved his arm above his face to block the light as he squinted at it, the light so brilliant to his eyes that had grown accustomed to the darkness. 

  
“ _Damian_.”


End file.
